Chapter 7: The Unburdened Air
Elvas stepped across the Oath, tearing through the invisible, shackling barrier that had kept him locked within Avalon his entire life. The air of the human world hit him, sharp and utterly unfamiliar, buzzing with a dense cacophony of sounds that clawed at his senses.
Horns blared, human voices rose and fell in unintelligible waves, and artificial lights flashed in a dizzying array of colors he'd never witnessed. For the first time, he was truly outside.
Yet, the word "free" felt elusive.
After choosing the Player Deletion, the System had immediately flashed its chilling confirmation—A player removed from existence—before the shimmering doorway to the human realm appeared. The meaning of "Player" still rattled in his mind like a puzzle missing crucial pieces, but he shoved the thought into a dark corner. Dwelling on it would only drown him.
The city swallowed him whole. Towering skyscrapers scraped the clouds, machines roared across the streets, and crowds of people moved past him in a frantic, unconcerned blur. Elvas's eyes darted everywhere, wide with a hungry curiosity, drinking in every sight.
Exhilaration swelled in his chest, but a familiar unease gnawed at him. Every glance thrown his way felt like a harsh, invasive spotlight.
A man muttered to his companion, his voice loud enough to carry. "That kid's acting weird. Probably high."
The casual judgment stung, a cruel reminder that even here—in a world entirely ignorant of his background—he was still instantly marked as the outsider.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking, his sneakers scuffing against the pavement. He cut down narrower streets until he reached a dark alley, its brick walls smeared with grime and graffiti. That's when he froze.
Five men had cornered a young woman, their cruel jeers and mocking laughter slicing through the noise of the night. She was pressed tightly against the brick, clutching her bag like a lifeline. Her wide eyes shone with pure terror, her lips trembling so violently that words had clearly abandoned her.
Elvas's chest tightened, and a flood of searing memories clawed their way back—his mother's screams, her blood soaking the dirt, his own small, powerless hands shaking as he watched. A fierce, sudden oath hardened his resolve: he would never again allow this to happen to anyone.
He stepped forward. "Hey," he called out, his voice initially shaky but quickly steeling with conviction. "Leave her alone."
The attackers turned, their laughter dying as their eyes settled on him.
A tall brute with a shaved head sneered. "Kid, get the hell out before you lose some teeth."
Elvas's pulse hammered, but he held his ground. His gaze flicked to the woman—tears clung to her lashes. That single sight was enough to solidify his intent.
"I'm not asking," Elvas said, his voice now steady.
Another man, gripping a baseball bat, stepped out of the circle. His grin was twisted, hungry for violence. "This is your only warning. Walk away, or you will regret it deeply."
Elvas did not move. The promise burning in his chest was now louder than any fear.
The man's grin widened as he swung the bat in a brutal, sweeping arc. Elvas reacted on raw instinct—his body blurred, the Speed surging through him. He caught the heavy wooden bat mid-swing, the wood splintering beneath his sudden, concentrated grip. The sharp crack echoed off the alley walls as the broken pieces clattered to the ground.
The gang stumbled backward, their eyes wide, their bravado instantly replaced by stark fear.
"I said," Elvas growled, his voice low and dangerous, "leave her alone."
The youngest of the group, a scar cutting across his cheek, shouted and lunged. Fists flew wildly, but Elvas moved like running water, effortlessly slipping aside and shoving him to the concrete. The others rushed him, but they were dropped in seconds—groaning, clutching their sides, their courage utterly shattered.
When the dust settled, Elvas turned back to the woman. She was still trembling, pinned against the wall, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts.
He crouched beside her, his tone softening with concern. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"
Her nod was shaky, but she accepted his help. Her hand felt cold and fragile in his.
"What was that?" she whispered, her eyes wide with awe. "How did you move so fast?"
Elvas scratched the back of his neck, forcing a nervous, dismissive laugh. "Just... something I picked up. Self-defense class, you know?"
The truth was forbidden. Humans were not allowed to know about Avalon, demons, the Oath.
She smiled faintly, brushing dark hair from her face. Gratitude softened her fear. "Thank you. I truly don't want to think about what would have happened without you."
Her eyes lingered on him, curious. "Do you live nearby? Maybe I could thank you properly sometime."
For a moment, Elvas allowed himself to feel the foreign warmth spreading through his chest. A human smile, soft and genuine, directed entirely at him.
"Yeah," he said, though his voice held a trace of hesitation. "But my place is kind of far from here."
He glanced down at his wrist, where a strange watch glowed faintly. He hadn't noticed it before; he'd found it in his pocket after crossing the Oath. Its single hand pointed firmly to midnight.
The woman frowned. "That's weird. It's barely nine o'clock."
Elvas froze. His heart skipped a beat as the realization struck: time in Avalon did not align with this world's time. He forced another quick laugh, tucking his wrist behind his back. "It's just a custom piece. It never keeps time correctly."
How could he possibly tell her that he didn't belong here, that even the passage of time betrayed his presence?
"I should go," he said quickly, a nervous urgency sparking in his voice. "But maybe... maybe I'll see you again."
She offered a soft, genuine smile, one that warmed him in a way he was completely unaccustomed to. "I hope so. Be careful out there."
He nodded, turning away. His feet carried him into a run before his doubts could anchor him.
He didn't stop until he slipped back across the Oath, the barrier shimmering like a closing door behind him. The air of Avalon instantly wrapped around him, familiar but suddenly stifling. He stumbled into his room and collapsed onto his bed, his chest heaving with exertion.
For the first time, the adrenaline buzzing through his veins was not from paralyzing fear—but from life, action, and genuine heroism. He pressed a hand against his chest, grinning despite himself.
"That was real," he whispered, disbelief still clinging to the edges of his tone. "I helped someone. They didn't know me. They didn't hate me."
The woman's soft, untainted smile replayed in his mind.
As his eyes drifted shut, sinking into the threadbare mattress, hope flickered, small but stubborn. Tomorrow could be different. Maybe—just maybe—he could start to carve out a life where he wasn't just a curse, wasn't merely a demon.
A place where he could, finally, belong.